Another year I found myself in Budapest, which is where I de­veloped my conviction that October is the best month to travel. The crowds are gone and the off-season rates affordable enough to tack on a few extra days. Plus, the air is different in October. I’m not talking about its caressing chill, although there is that. I am referring to its hue. As evening fell in Budapest, the hue was an enveloping, misty blue. I have not seen that shade anywhere else, but it resides for me in the soul of the season. It could be described as melancholy. Sad, some might say.

So, I suppose, fall is sad. But the only thing that makes me truly sad about the season is not being able to travel to see it in its various guises everywhere. That, and getting my hopes up again for the Eagles.